


all roads lead to Holmes

by nightwindcreations



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Cultural Differences, Execution, F/F, F/M, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Multi, Other, Torture, historical medicine, period typical social views, roman culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwindcreations/pseuds/nightwindcreations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to see if I could write pairs that I don’t necessarily ship.<br/>What better setting than ancient Rome?  </p><p>I am trying to stay as true to the characters and the time period</p><p>wish me luck</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He looked on, maintaining a calm demeanor as the younger man paced frantically around the room spinning to face his brother. The broken look in the young man’s eyes tore at his brother’s heart, but he couldn't allow that to show. 

“You have to fix this Mycroft, you are the only one that can” a pleading tone that, Mycroft had a hard time reconciling with his brother’s voice. 

“Sherlock” he said gently shaking his head slightly “that I could” he said quietly

“No!” Sherlock shouted, his normally smooth and beautiful voice shattered in grief “you have to, otherwise he will die, and it will be my fault” he dropped to his knees in front of his brother, hooking a finger under Mycroft’s sash “I will do anything to see him home safely” trying to make his voice into a sultry purr, but the pain still showing “you have Caesar’s ear, he will give you what you ask” 

Mycroft laid a gentle hand over his brother’s, “in this he cannot, I am sorry Sherlock but, even He cannot. John killed a roman citizen” he explained softly

“That murdered how many?” Sherlock spat back “how many women did that dog kill?”

“Exactly Sherlock ‘women’, if they were wives or daughters of important families their men could have protected John, but they weren’t Sherlock.”

“Mater Juno is a woman, would you dare to speak so foolishly of her” Sherlock spat back

“Mater Juno is a Goddess these were Jewish women of no consequence; none were even born of citizens of the empire. They weren’t important, to anyone” Mycroft’s frustration was starting to show through as he spoke. He sighed dejectedly “Even if I agree with what John did, even if Caesar agreed with what John did,” his eyebrow rose enough to still his brother’s tongue “even IF Caesar did agree with John killing a Roman citizen to protect the daughters of his kinsmen, there would still be nothing he could do. There have been too many mad Emperors, even in our lifetimes. Caesar is still establishing his hold on the empire, without history poisoning his reign, and” he gave Sherlock a pointed look as he continued his explanation “And, Sherlock, allowing a Jewish man to kill Roman citizens, would not sit well with the nobility” 

“Morta cut the nobility!” Sherlock shouted “it isn’t as if he killed one of their number. With as many as take to the Jewish quarter he likely even saved one of their lovers.”

“Sherlock” Mycroft snapped harshly “do not blaspheme in my house” 

“What else can I do?” Sherlock asked, his head resting on his brother’s thigh tears filling his eyes, in a rare display of emotion.

“Pray, beg the Gods, if they will even intervene, perhaps Mater Juno will hear his plight, all of them were women he impregnated, before he killed them” Mycroft offered gently both men knowing the futility of the suggestion 

Sherlock jumped up to stalk out of the room  
“Sherlock” Mycroft stopped him “He was my friend too, do remember that” 

“Was? He was your friend” Sherlock scoffed “you act as if he is dead already” 

“He is Sherlock; the execution is the day after tomorrow, if you would care to witness it. I will NOT be in attendance for that. It was hard enough sitting next to Caesar when he sentenced John to death; I will not be there to watch his life’s blood be spilled as ‘entertainment’ for the nobility” Mycroft internally cursed the names of the nobles that had forced Caesar’s hand, he would never speak the words, but he would beg Pater Jupiter to punish their treachery 

“Is there any way I could see him, just once more before he dies?” Sherlock asked, without facing his brother. His hand stretched before him, against the wall, as if holding himself up on it, his head hung dejectedly, his eyes closed in pain, his voice shaking. Mycroft crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on his brother’s back, he rested his head gently on the younger man’s shoulder. “I need to tell him, I need to see him and touch him one last time. I need to beg his forgiveness” his voice soft and pained 

“I will see that you may” he whispered standing and fixing his tunic. He watched his brother leave the house. He heard the soft footfalls of his wife behind him. She always makes just enough noise for him to hear her, but never so much as to intrude. He felt her soft hands guide him by the arm over to the cushions and help him down. Her dark hair fell freely across her shoulders in the manner he always preferred. Her gentle presence a balm to the aches of the world, but even she wasn’t enough today. 

“Shall I prepare for you to depart to the Curia?” she asked softly 

He smiled in spite of the tension; she really was the perfect wife. Even if he ever preferred the forms of men, he did his duty to his Empire and Emperor, by wedding a woman, as the example set by the great Juno and Jupiter. Even still, he could see how fortunate he was in her. She was an attractive woman in her own right, with a sharp wit, and clever tongue that served a perfect counterpoint to her gentle presence. She was one of the few people men or women that he trusted; more than trusted, he respected her. She was brilliant, and soft, and wise, braver than any man he had known and loyal almost to a fault. He often wondered if she wasn’t born of the Gods.  
When he had company, to seduce a man that caught his eye, she would often entertain their wives with such skill that the women were as thrilled as their husbands to attend upon his home again. Though recently she hasn’t needed to as his Praetorian Guard's wife is unwilling to join her husband on his visits to the noble’s home. He knew that it was because she had her own lovers, and was wondering how they were going to react to finding out about each other, he would almost be willing to sell seats at the coliseum for that show. That thought, would normally cheer him, today it filled him with pain. Knowing that John would be executed in the coliseum so soon, caused him an ache that would take a long time to heal, if it ever did. He vowed to himself that he would not blame his brother for John’s death, John made his decision. He followed Sherlock as he always did, in body, in mind and in spirit, as he had always done, that this time it ended in the death of a Roman citizen, was as much John’s fault as Sherlock’s. 

He would have to think of something to do for Anthea to thank her for everything she has done for him. He nodded, knowing that she had already sent for a travel meal and sandals. He stood silently, and kissed her on the cheek, to take his leave

He had said his goodbyes to his friend the night before. He had made promises to John, some spoken and some simply in his heart, now it was time to start to see them through. He may not be able to spare his friend, but he could honor him in death, as he had in life. Now that there were no words left, once John and Sherlock spoke, all words of this world would be unneeded, and the bravest man he knew could find his reward in peace, weather his Jewish heaven or the fields of Elysium. If any man deserved the Isle of the Blessed it was John. 

He turned to his home, knowing he would not be seeing it again until after the executions. He wanted nothing more than to take refuge behind her walls, and let his wife care for him, perhaps invite guests over to celebrate the turning of the seasons. He touched the door in silent prayer for the safety of all within, as he did every time he left. Knowing that the one person he would wish for safety would be dead at the change of the moon. He held his head high, knowing that he could never show the trial that weighed on his heart. He started the short trek to the Curia, and the Palace after the close of the Senate for the evening. His boy silently joined him, the sack Anthea had prepared slung over his shoulder. He rested a hand gently on the child’s head in acknowledgement as he walked.


	2. Chapter 2

She walked along the rows of booths, and vendors selling their wares for the upcoming festival, her slave following a polite step behind. She walked quickly and with a purpose, knowing what she was looking for, a few of the men turned their backs, so not to see a single woman walking the market unaccompanied. Some out of respect for a woman that had saved them, or a family member, some with disdain, that a woman would dare to act as if she were a man, with the right to attend to business on her own. There was a rumor that she was born of mighty Apollo, or perhaps Mercury, as she was able to save those that other healers called good. None would openly curse her, for fear of offending the Gods, but they would treat her with disdain for not behaving as the Gods called woman to be. The man at the booth she walked to, placed a sack on the table set for such reason, her slave picked up the sack and opened it, the woman looked inside and nodded, placing a few coins on the bench she left without speaking a word to the man, as was proper. She stopped at a few more booths, with similar motions, only speaking to women in the market, and only those that initiated conversation with her. 

When she reached the last booth in the market that she was to visit that day, she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face at the man in front of her, they had grown to know each other well over the few year she had been in Rome. She had seen all four of his children into the world, after the first was trapped in his mother’s womb, and she was the only healer that refused to give up until the child was safely nursing at his mother’s breast. He returned her smile as he placed the bag on the bench. Looking into the bag she raised an eyebrow at the extra bottles in the bag. Reading the slip of paper that accompanied the bottles she smiled at him fondly, the man was almost too generous with her. “It causes no hardship” his wife’s voice came from behind her. Molli turned to face her friend, one of the few she could speak to openly. “I speak true. We find many herbs that would only be useful to a rare few healers. That you are one of those healers, is Fortuna’s work” the woman smiled at the young girl that saved her life, and the life of her first son. “Would you care for company on your shopping?” she asked 

“Yours was the last booth of the day for me, I have to call upon a patient before sun’s sleep today, and be ready for new ones on Sun’s Death tomorrow” Molli replied softly. She wished that her friend’s booth was closer to her home, with a promise to attend them again after Sun’s Birth Festival she left to see to her young patient, and his family. 

~~~

Late that evening, she was laying out supplies in the apothecary, when she heard a frantic shouting at her front door. Throwing the door open she saw a Centurion and a women, holding a babe of only a few days, the woman was crying and the Centurion looked strained. “Please help us” the centurion begged standing at the door “my child, is dying and no one can tell us why, let alone save him” 

Molli waved them into the room and lay the swaddled child on a table. Looking at the babe she could instantly tell what was wrong. Bowing her head in silent plea, she pressed into the child’s skin and noticed the yellowing under her finger. “your child has the wasting disease” she reached out and took hold of the Centurion by the shoulder forcing him to face her, knowing what kind of infraction she was causing by speaking directly to a man, let alone touching a man without invitation “listen to me, and heed my words carefully, if you wish your child to live.” She handed him a strip of cloth, “find men and women, free or slave matters not, just find me four that when a drop of their blood is touched to the fabric, it turns orange. Not one man in a hundred will turn the fabric, so you must search but be clear on this, find them quickly; by morning your child will be dead, so waste not a second of time. If you cannot find four, find three, if you cannot find three find one. If the gods will it one will save your son tonight, two will save your child until Sun’s Birth and four or more, and if the Gods are kind, will save your child until manhood. Now make haste and find them” the Centurion’s eyes were dark in confusion. 

“How?” he asked “how can I find them before morning? The slave pens are closed, there are none to sell, our household has only one. I am not the leader of so many men, how can I save my son” the Centurion’s voice heavy in fear and grief

“Plea to Caesar,” his wife begged “if Caesar will hear you, we may yet save him” 

The Centurion nodded and ran from the room, the cloth held tightly to his chest. His eyes determined his manner sure, a warrior going to command his troops and win a battle, even if the battle was inside the small body of a new babe. 

“Why does this happen?” the woman asked Molli “why would the gods take one so new? Do they not know how much we value them here? Why are the Gods so cruel to us, even when we are faithful to them” she stroked her son’s skin, the child barely moved, his body too weak to hold his eyes up. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but both women could see the battle being waged inside his tiny body 

“I think that the gods do take a kindness to us, the wasting never happens to the first born. They give us one and take another. Please believe that if I cannot save him, it is because the gods took him in kindness. That they took him spare him a pain, or torment that they deemed too great for a human to bear. Please trust them, to know what they want with this world, even if we don’t” the sadness in Molli’s eyes told the other woman that she was trying to convince both of them. She saw the pair to a room in the back of the house “please rest, I know you won’t sleep but you should at least rest, and you will be more comfortable in here. I will send a slave to see to your needs” 

She left the mother and child, and went to her slaves’ room both were awake. They knew the life of a healer as well as she did. Both were already in motion “go, rest.” The old woman insisted softly “we will wake you before the father returns, until then there is nothing you can do, we will have the room set” Molli nodded, she knew to sleep when the opportunity presented itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> called good- dead


	3. Chapter 3

   
Mycroft sat next to Caesar, speaking of the event of the day. He poured wine for his Emperor, allowing no hand but his own to touch Caesar’s goblet. Caesar could tell that he wished to make a request of him. Mycroft always showed him, before he asked. That was one of the things Caesar appreciated about the man. He always knew what to expect from him, that and Mycroft’s ambition was to be the most important person you would never know, and Caesar thought a bit ruefully, he likely was. He was invaluable, and brilliant, but he never wanted anyone to know his true power. Very few in the Senate even knew how he pulled strings in their own ranks, with Caesar, and even in the military. The man was a marvel, but because of that, he was entirely loyal. His power was tied to the power of the men he influenced, perhaps controlled was a better term. Caesar smiled, he should be offended by the thought of being controlled by such a man, but the reality was that Mycroft was privately ambitious, remarkably gifted in both intellect as well as the understanding of the ways of men and women, and had tied his ambition to the throne. He was Caesars man, in every possible way. 

“Is the wine to your liking?” he asked using no honorifics, or titles. They were friends, and they were in Caesar’s private suite. 

He frowned in concern at the sound of the man’s voice. Mycroft never let emotion show, but now there was a tone of bitter sadness “What can I do my friend” Caesar asked “to take the weight you carry from your shoulders?”

Mycroft smiled politely, but it never reached his eyes, “my emperor is too kind to me, that he should concern himself with my welfare” 

“It is the Jew, you think of.” Caesar knew Mycroft well enough not to need an answer. In the man’s defense he never denied it. “Were there anything I could do.” He said quietly running a hand down Mycroft’s arm. “I even thought to gift him to you, or your brother as a slave” he shook his head. Mycroft understood, and the fact that Caesar had even considered saving John for his sake, even if it was hopeless, at least he knew that his emperor cared about his plight. Mycroft touched the other man’s hand, stilling it on his arm.

“I know you would have, had it been possible. Now all I can do is pray to the gods and grieve for my lost friend. The fault was never with you.” Mycroft sighed defeated “nor with my brother, Sherlock, would never have knowingly risked the life of one he loves. The fault lies with the dead, Lord Pluto’s hand now holds all”   
Caesar ran his finger gently through Mycroft’s hair. He knew how it felt to lose a man under your command. The Praetorians standing guard over the men, looked on in sympathy, and respect. They had also lost men trusted to their care, and knew the heart sickness of grief that came with it. Mycroft leaned into the other man’s caress, taking comfort in the warmth, and affection being offered. 

The soft rustle of fabric was Mycroft’s only warning before he felt soft lips touch the back of his neck. “We shall grieve death, when it falls. Tonight shall we grieve life?” Caesar whispered into his ear, his hand reaching for Mycroft’s sash. He froze waiting for acceptance before stripping the other man of his robes. The exalted emperor of the great Roman State stripped him of both of his shells, clothes and of mind. Mycroft felt a hand stroke his side his eyes closed in pleasure. If in his mind he saw a shorter man with bright eyes, sandy hair, a crystalline laugh, and strong but unassuming bearing; instead of the emperor of Rome, he would never speak of it to any living. If Caesar knew that while he stroked Mycroft to fullness that the other man was imaging it was the hand of another man, he would never say. Just as Mycroft had never spoken of it, when it was his mouth surrounding Caesars manhood, as Caesar called the name of a lover lost in an attack that should never have happened. 

Caesar sat behind him, never breaching his sight, as to not shatter the illusion that it was another man dripping olive oil over his length, stroking it, as he held him against the solid weight of his chest. Mycroft’s head was thrown back as he gasped in relief. This was not about pleasure, it was about forgetting, it was about removing himself from the world for a few moments, and it was all the man could give his friend. His hands and lips working over Mycroft’s body, wringing every sensation possible out of the man, he would not speak a word, he knew what Mycroft needed to release himself from the prison of his own mind. He had seen the man go stiff when he had given the order, he wished that his power was more assured, that he would have been able to indenture the man for a few years into the hands of the brothers. He could feel Mycroft’s body react under his hand, he could feel his hardness throbbing with his impending release; he kissed at the other man’s shoulder breathing carefully across his throat from behind. Mycroft’s breath caught as his climax stole over him, the man behind him not allowing him to turn his head. Mycroft felt a single hot tear trace down his face, his grief, his despair and his pain all unable to be contained anymore. He would not allow himself more than that brief moment to show any weakness in public. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the solid body behind him, his mind replaced the room with his chamber at home, and the smell of the man for the faint trace of exotic spice that surrounds John. Pulling his robe closed, and allowing the comfort of the other man to support him, he would be in Caesar’s place after sunrise, when the executions were to occur. He would be the one, holding and supporting his younger brother, after the death of the man they both love. 

“If it is in my power to give you, It will be done” the man said quietly to Mycroft   
“My brother” he started “he wishes to speak to the condemned, before his death”

Caesar nodded to the Praetor, “It shall be so” he said sadly 

There was a slight commotion in the hallway; a slave came in and bowed before the emperor   
“One of your illustrious Centurions, requests audience”

“Which among them” Caesar asked   
At the name, Caesar nodded, his face concerned 

The man came in and threw himself prostrate on the ground before the two men “Mighty Caesar, who rules with the wisdom of the gods, I beg for my son’s life”   
The man couldn’t be older than 25, his son could not be a man.   
“Speak” Caesar said his curiosity obviously piqued

“My son was born not 10 days ago. He started bruising and a rash appeared across his body, he refused to nurse at his mother’s breast, the midwife called it the wasting disease. My wife and I took him to a healer that said that she can save him, if we can find men or women that when their blood is touched to a cloth, it turns orange. I do not lead so many men that I can find enough to save my son. I beg of you Caesar, please grant me access to the slave pits. That I may find enough that my son could live” 

His breathing was ragged, Caesar turned to Mycroft “Go with him, I will give you my seal that any you claim from the pit shall go with this man to save the life of a loyal Centurion. Never let it be said that I will turn away those that are loyal to me.” he looked pointedly at Mycroft “Any that are taken from the pit shall be turned over to this man, to assist in saving his son.” 

“It shall be as you say” Mycroft said calmly, Caesar had just given him a gift and he wasn’t about to let it pass him by


	4. Chapter 4

Mycroft and the Centurion hurried through the halls of the slave pit. Mycroft showed the writ to the guards, they were falling over each other to get out of the way of Caesar’s men.   
“I will help you, but you will help me as well” Mycroft told the Centurion quietly “you will do me a small favor, if you do between us we will find the men to save your son, if you do not I will waste enough time that you will never find any in time”   
The Centurion nodded grimly “what is this favor?”   
“One of these men is a friend of mine, he killed a man to save my brother’s life, but he was sentenced to death. He is a skilled physician and a good man, but he is a Jew. If you save him, I will save your son” Mycroft spelled out carefully.   
The Centurion nodded “Even Caesar could not save protect him, in this political clime, I will do as you ask”   
Mycroft sighed in relief   
~~~~

John opened his eyes, when the door opened, it was dark in the pits, but that was hardly a surprise, it was always dark in the pits  
strong hands grabbed him and drug him along. This is it his mind supplied he prayed that he would find favor with God and be forgiven for his sins. He had given Mycroft a letter for Sherlock, telling him not to blame himself, and that he was loved. He wished he could see the man one last time, just to say goodbye, but maybe it was better this way. He was led outside and set into the back of a carriage, swiftly but not unkindly. He closed his eyes, and waited for the dizzy spell to pass. His mind registered that the door was opening as another man was pushed into the carriage, a few minutes later a woman was shoved in, by the time the third and fourth were brought out, his mind was starting to clear. He had hoped that he would be drugged before his death, but it seemed that God wished to meet him on his feet. He closed his eyes again and laid his head back against the carriage wall, when the carriage started moving. He heard a soft prayer coming from one of the women. His mind drifted to Sherlock, not sure if he hoped to see Sherlock again, or if he wished to spare his fried the pain of seeing him die. 

~~~~

The Centurion walked swiftly alongside the carriage on a mission to save a life he held dear.   
“Her home” the Centurion stated to the carriage driver   
“Her?” the driver asked, “A woman.”   
The Centurion nodded “she is said to be the daughter of Apollo himself”   
The door opened and a gentle motherly looking older slave woman waved them into the house, guiding the slaves in the carriage into the house as well.   
~~~~

John looked around surprised to see a normal looking house on the outskirts of town. The slaves were guided into the house. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening. They should have been driven to the arena.   
Molli grabbed one of the slaves by the arm and guided her into the back room. The Centurion and John followed her  
John looked at the babe in his mother’s arms, “the wasting disease!” he gasped   
“If I can transfuse enough safe blood into him quickly and keep doing so every other day for the fortnight, he may yet survive” Molli told him   
He looked at her with respect, and he set to work placing the small cannula into the arm of the slave that Molli had guided to the seat next to the child. She looked on him with gratitude as she placed the other end of the reed into the babe’s leg. John applied an herb compress to the child’s leg arguing with Molli about the pain the boy would be in. The two bickered about everything good-naturedly as they treated the child. John watching the flow of blood into the boy; while Molli watched his response. Molli’s slaves smiled to themselves as the pair worked well into the morning, the slave girl under his hand let out a small sound as sunlight filtered into the room through the window. John refused to look up until the child had nursed and was sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms. Molli’s slave offered him water and food, and guided him to a bed in one of the rooms that Molli reserved for company. John dropped to his knees in the sunlight and prayed, grateful to have seen the new day. Mycroft must have succeeded in saving him.

John sent a short prayer after Mycroft for his safety, as well as his brother’s. If God was pleased with him, he would see the brothers again, but for now he was willing to stay as a slave in Molli’s household. He felt useful and he knew what it was like to be, not quite, a part of society, as well as healer. He a Jew, she a woman, but they were united in their desire to serve, to help and to protect life. If he had to serve as a slave, he would accept being the slave of a healer, at least until Mycroft and Sherlock found a way to purchase him from her. The other option being a slave to the centurion was also positive, he would be taken into the man’s routine and accompany him on campaigns, he would be a military healer again. Even if he didn’t get a say in who he served, he would still serve as a healer and do everything in his power to keep his patients alive and hale.   
~~~~

Mycroft let himself into Sherlock’s home. The man was curled up on the floor in tears, his breathing shaky and harsh. Mycroft sat next to him, and placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.   
“Why couldn’t you get me in to see him, you promised me that I would see him before…” his voice trailed off as the tears fell unchecked 

“If I hear of the hour of his death, I will see to it that you get the opportunity to speak to him.” Mycroft answered exhaustedly  
Sherlock startled at hearing that, wiping his face and taking in everything about Mycroft’s bearing. 

“He lives,” Sherlock stated in wonder “you managed it” 

Mycroft laughed in relief, as Sherlock threw himself onto his brother knocking him to the floor under him. His lips connecting with his brother’s, in a searing kiss, everything that Sherlock could not trust himself to say whispered through his skin. “He lives” Mycroft replied exhaustion from the long night tugging at him. “Stand, Sherlock. We have much to do. We must give offering to the Pluto, Juno, Apollo, the Gentle One’s and The Fates in thanks for sparing his life.”   
Sherlock nodded at that  
~~~~

Mycroft walked regally into the small temple of Pluto. His brother standing at his side, he placed a ring in front of the alter in the offering plate, of the finest gold, and clearest gem he could find. His brother placed a similar clasp next to it. The priest of Pluto stepped into the room. “I thought I had heard the door open” he smiled at the men. “I should have expected it would be you, most fear Lord Pluto too much to do more than toss a coin or two at his feast.”

“We have seen too much of his kindness to fear his wrath” Sherlock answered “he has never been the enemy, nor is he anything to be feared” 

The priest laughed, such a joyful sound, from a man that knew more of the ways of the dead than the ways of the living. 

“Who is like unto the Gods?” the man asks with a smile. 

“We should let you get back to your work now” Sherlock said, trying not to smile, In spite of himself. That a man of medicine, who cares for the house of the dead, would be a man of such cheerful disposition was a source of wonder in the world. At a wave Mycroft’s boy handed the priest a bag of foods the brothers had prepared for him. 

“Thank you my friends” the priest told the pair “I have new initiates that need to be trained, and kept from mischief. I will speak with you at a later time, as it appears you have words for our god”   
~~~~

Molli, stood in the room with the Centurion and his wife, the babe sleeping peacefully in a basket.  
“The slaves are yours, to do with as you please” the Centurion told her “we will pay upkeep until next Sun’s Birth, for them, one Aureus per moon should cover any expenses you would incur. I will also send textiles and foodstuffs for your household for the same amount of time, and sandals fit to each of the slaves, as well as anything I can get you that would be of use. Great Healer, if you ever have need, of any kind, tell me and it shall be met, I must go see to our daughter now, she is at the neighbors home.”

“Take her to the festival and then bring her here” Molli said quickly “I have slaves that can mind the child, and it would do you and your wife well to have the girl near. Please understand; I have done all human hands can, but the babe may, yet, not live. Allow her to enjoy the festivities, with her father, then allow her the time with her brother, let her memories of his birth be as joyous as she deserves.” With that she ushered the man out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael’s literal translation in Hebrew “who is like unto God” couldn’t resist adding Stamford that way


	5. Chapter 5

He stood looking at the boy on the ground, his small frame wracked in pain.  
“Does anyone else know?” he asked the cook

“Only Lucilla the pot slave, and the other Cook, she is the one that came to get me” the cook replied “Should I bring them to you?” the woman asked her head bowed in supplication.

The man nodded “we can’t have word of this incident reaching the wrong ears” 

 

The guard let himself in to Caesar’s rooms through the servant’s halls, to avoid questioning eyes, his most loyal men following closely in his wake. Caesar woke and looked at him, betrayal written on his face “we have no time. My men are bringing your taster up now. He has been poisoned. Whom shall we bring to your side, my emperor?” 

Caesars face was hard to read, “bring Lord Mycroft he is being housed at the palace as we speak, and my wife, if I am to meet the gods this night those are the ones I want by my side.” He said

The Praetor nodded “bring them” he said to one of his men “and take note of any who see you walking the halls” 

One of his men set up a small pallet in the corner of the room, and laid the boy on it carefully, the cooks and the pot slave stood nervously beside him. The man he sent returned with Lord Mycroft and the Empress very quickly. 

Lord Mycroft looked at Caesar and turned to the young guard “go quickly to this house, there is a healer that is said to be born of Apollo himself, if anyone can save the emperor, it would be her. Move swiftly” he said handing the man a scrap of parchment 

“Can he save the emperor?” the empress asked.

“She, can she save the emperor” Mycroft corrected 

“If any can, it would be her, I have seen a child saved that the gods had called.” Caesar said sitting up in his bed “if the gods will it we may both be saved” he gestured to the boy in the corner 

The guard looked at the cooks and the pot slave “if the boy and Caesar both survive this, you will as well, but if either of them die I will assume that one of you had something to do with their condition and all three of you will die. So I suggest that all three of you do everything in your power to keep them alive” as he knelt next to the boy and propped his head, he tilted his flask to the boy’s mouth giving him a small sip of water, before wrapping him in a blanket and trying to make him comfortable. 

The household was used to being woken in the night by a frantic knock. So when the old slave opened the door and bid the young guard welcome, Molli was already on her way to the apothecary. She motioned for the young man to follow. He ran to keep up with the young woman “It’s the emperor” he said quietly “he and his food taster have been poisoned” 

Molli looked at him stunned for a second, before beginning a flurry of activity, grabbing bottles off of the shelves “do you know what kind of poison was used?” she asked the young guard shook his head “how long ago was he dosed” 

“The banquet today, so a few hours ago” 

Molli nodded taking down another bottle and placing it in her bags. “Martha” she called out “I need the birthing blanket, and tools” 

“birthing blanket?” the guard asked confused “but the emperor”

“needs me to attend the palace quickly, with no one knowing why I am rushing to his side” Molli replied quickly “If I openly run with tools to assist a difficult birth, none will suspect the emperor has fallen victim, and if the gods call him, it can be said that they also called the child that I tried to save. So no suspicion of treachery is laid at your feet or mine”  
By the time she had finished speaking the older woman had returned and handed her the blanket to cover her satchel and tools to hang from her belt. 

Molli grabbed the arm of the guard and raced through the streets to the palace. To the young man’s amazement the few people they passed so late in the night all made a sign of blessing, believing that they were trying to save the life of a mother and babe, not of emperor of Rome himself. Heartened the young guard ran faster knowing that the girl with him was correct, the foresight she showed may give them the edge to save the emperor. 

“we need to make our way to the family quarters openly” Molli spoke quietly to the guard “then we will use the slaves tunnels to enter into Caesar’s quarters, but it is very important that we are seen entering the family wing” the guard guided the young woman, past the guards to the family wing. He watched one of the older guards make a sign of protection to Mater Juno, as he closed the door to the nobles’ wing behind the pair. 

As soon as they were in the nobles’ wing, the guard led her to the first empty room that they passed, carefully watching for anyone that was awake. The guard drew his gladius, sending up a silent prayer to Pater Jupiter and Mater Juno that he wouldn’t need it and in forgiveness for the deceit. 

The gods must have found favor with the pair as they made it to Caesar’s room without incident. They opened the door to Caesar’s room, and Molli walked in quickly looking around and taking stock of the situation. Mycroft sat near the bed watching every move she made “I need water quickly” she snapped at the guard that accompanied her, as she opened her bag and started pulling out bottles and vials. 

She poured water into two vials of dark powder, and handed one to the cook “sit behind him and hold him up” she told Mycroft “you too” she said to the guard with the young boy “make him drink all of it and do not let him lie on his back until his color is improved” she nodded to Mycroft and tipped the vial for Caesar to drink “my apologies, Lord emperor. This tastes exactly the way you think it does, but it is necessary” as she fed the dark liquid to the emperor as he leaned into the warmth of Mycroft’s body  
As soon as he finished the vial she spoke quietly to him, “I need to examine the boy. I can do things to buy you a bit of time, but if you are to live I have to start with him” she rested her hand on his brow, and felt his wrist before moving over to the boy.  
The boy was the greater concern, he was not fairing as well as the emperor. That was only to be expected, as the child was smaller and much more fragile than the strong man in the bed. 

She pulled his eyelid back and had one of the cooks hold a lantern up so she can check the color.  
The guard hissed in a breath at the bright blue hue 

“Red would be preferable, but blue is still treatable. If it had been yellow, there would be very little hope” she told him reassuringly, while she checked his teeth and nails. 

She nodded and mixed a few things from her bag and handed them to the guard. He needs to drink this and as much clear water as you can get into him within the next hour. She walked over to Caesar and started checking him as well, mixing up a similar compound for Caesar. She continued to direct everyone in the room treating both patients until the early hours of the morning. Mixing potions and making her patients drink them. Checking hands, mouths, and eyes; until she could barely hold her own eyes open, and Caesar and the child’s color returned to normal and she allowed both to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Molli turned to Mycroft and the empress, as they sat next to Caesar while he slept  
“Now what?” she asked “if nothing else happens they will both recover with no ill effects. Who do we say I was called to attend upon?” 

“me” The empress spoke. She turned to one of the guards “go and find a servant or slave girl that is heavily pregnant to act as a wet nurse. Bring her to my suites and we will induce her child” she looked at Molli “you do have the herbs and poultices to invoke labor with you, don’t you?” Molli nodded “then you will stay here until an appropriate woman has been found. No one will question ase everyone in the household knows that I never looked pregnant with my last child, especially if a child is born before its time, I will raise the child as my own in thanks to the gods for sparing my husband.” 

Molli giggled lightly “forgive the irreverence, but he looks more like he has given child, than anyone at this moment.” She knew that the strain and fatigue were affecting her, but she couldn’t stop herself, as she leaned against the wall to hold herself up. 

The empress laughed openly “he does, doesn’t he. He would likely find that thought humorous himself, were he awake enough to hear it” 

“he is awake enough to hear, and does find it humorous” Caesar said without opening his eyes  
Molli paled at his voice “as my empress has said, so say I". he spoke from the bed. "Gifted healer” he spoke opening his eyes and looking straight as Molli “never fear speak truth to me, you have saved my life. All in this room have earned the right to speak freely to Me.” he intoned ritualistically 

Mycroft looked on shrewdly, as Molli sagged again looking to the guards, “escort the empress and the healer to the empresses quarters and make a pallet on the floor for the healer” he turned his head “you” he said to another guard “set up a royal nursery for the child, and you” he nodded at the cooks “prepare a birthing suite, bring more water and spread the word through the servants that the empress has had a healer brought in because her baby is coming early”  
~~~~~

“Bring boiled water and blankets” Molli said quietly exhaustion sounding in her voice “let no one enter the family wing” 

The slave girl brought in, less than an hour later looked enough like the emperor that none would question the child. 

Molli set to measuring the girl and gave her herbs to drink, as the guard explained what was going to happen to her and her child.  
~~~~~

More than a day after Molli had been summoned to the palace, the babe was born, the mother recovering in the royal nursery, the empress was asleep in her own bed, the food taster was sleeping peacefully, the emperor had already announced the birth of a daughter; and she was packing up her tools and herbs. Her small hands shook in exhaustion, she didn’t hear the door open behind her, nor did she pay any mind to the soft footfalls. Her head sagged in sheer, bone deep weariness, until she felt a soft hand touch her between the shoulders. She startled and looked into the face of, Lord Mycroft’s wife “I beg forgiveness” she stammered “I did not expect anyone else to be in here.” Her voice shook with exhaustion 

Lady Anthea smiled “I should not have startled you. I can see how exhausted you are. I was going to ask if you wished a bed here”, Anthea’s fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of Molli’s exposed arm “to sleep in”. Molli looked concerned, Anthea read every twitch of a muscle, every quirk of an eye lid or brow, every flash of thought in her eyes, Molli was easier to read than any scroll, or book. Her eyes betrayed every thought. Anthea was fascinated that she felt no reason to mask her intentions or thoughts, causing everyone around her to unmask themselves as well. Her hand tightened on the younger girl’s arm, this girl was exactly what she appeared to be at any time, and yet so much more, she had to know more about this brilliant woman that had just saved the emperor and the empire. Her forethought was the reason that no rumors of treachery had been mentioned. The slaves were being split between the guards that had saved Caesar’s life, the food taster was being gifted to Lord Mycroft at the girl's, admittedly wise, suggestion. Any that knew of the treachery were either proven loyal, or the traitors, and rumors can be tracked to their source. Anthea had to know more, she felt drawn into a magnificent orbit of a girl that must be god-born, she felt her lips rest at Molli’s neck. Her fingers lightly traced up her arms and across her delicate throat, imagining a golden chain with a caduceus, or the golden disk or Apollo gracing such a beautiful column, her lips gently touched the spot that the gold would land in her mind. She entwined her fingers with the healers, “you do have a healers hands” she said in wonder “graceful and deft, yet strong and sturdy” she pulled Molli along after her, knowing that the girl’s fear and reservations were nothing but status based, but she had to know this delightfully intriguing girl better. She led Molli into the suites she shared with her husband and sent a slave to give Mycroft the message that she would be attending to the healer until she had at least rested and eaten. She was at the moment the perfect hostess, to the exhausted woman.  
Besides, she had heard rumors about bedding a healer, and how well they knew the human body, and what they could do with that information 

 

As the slave left Anthea guided Molli to the large bed, she slipped the tunic and robes from the girl’s slight frame, and handed them to the other slave with instructions to have them cleaned, and that none were to disturb the sleeping healer until they were called. The slave nodded making a sign of wording over the young woman that was about to fall asleep on her feet. Apparently the news that she had saved the young princess’s life had gotten around. If only they knew the true extent of what this brilliant woman had done for the empire. Anthea thought, as she helped the naked woman into bed, she coaxed her onto her stomach and reached for the body oil she had laid out next to the bed. She luxuriated in the feel of soft skin and firm muscle as she stroked the knots and pains away with clever hands, she had to restrain herself from doing more until after the girl had slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably clean up the last couple chapters before i post any more.


	7. Chapter 7

Molli woke completely as soon as her eyes opened, Anthea was surprised that there was no confusion as to where she was or why she was there. Anthea reached over and stroked the healer’s hair and down the back of her neck. Trailing her finger tips softly along the other woman’s body, she smiled as she brushed her lips across Molli’s neck and shoulder. Molli sighed in pleasure as Anthea teased her to excitement. “You beautiful, brilliant woman, the gods have given us a marvel in you” Anthea whispered into the girl’s ear as she breached her body with a single finger. Simply exploring the exquisite body under her, touching every curve and joint, varying pressure to learn what made the other woman moan in pleasure. She slipped her finger back out and brushed it over the sensitive bud her other hand reaching around and teasing at Molli’s nipple. Hearing Molli gasp and feeling her squirm under her was exquisite torture. She pulled away entirely and pulled Molli onto her back, before pulling Molli’s legs over her shoulders and taking her prize with her tongue and breaching her body aging with her fingers. Mollli’s climax washed over both women as her entire body shook with the power of her orgasm. Anthea stroked Molli’s calf gently to bring her back down from it before diving in again, this time Molli pulled the other woman onto the bed and put her knowledge of the human body to good use as she kissed, sucked, licked, and even bit a few times herself, bringing Anthea to a crashing climax, enjoying the glow of physical intimacy, as well as the satisfaction of bringing her lover such pleasure. 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Molli stood at the threshold of her house and offered a silent prayer of thanks and protection, for those that were within. John opened the door smiling at her, as he wiped his hands on a rag. “The little one is sleeping, I just finished his blood treatment. If God is willing, this should be his last. I just sent the old man off with his tincture, and the girl with the spider bite is resting. Everyone here is doing well and we even got to bed at a decent hour this morning.” John joked lightly. He had come far in the weeks that he had been in her household, he was much more relaxed and if it wasn’t as exciting as he wished for, it was still good work. He felt useful, and even needed Molli and her household were grateful for the extra help from a trained healer and he was learning new techniques, as well as teaching some. This was the first time Molli had ever worked with another healer that treated her as an equal, and even though he was a slave he was nothing less, in her house, than a partner in medicine. 

Molli pulled out some clean clothes and thought about sending the girls out to wash, she figured they could wait a few more days, but the life of a healer meant that you could never take time for granted. She called John and Martha out to the garden to help cut herbs, as the three of them were the only ones that knew how to treat medicinal herbs. She planned on teaching the slaves purchased with John to read and write so she could at least get some help with labeling them. Sometimes she wondered if she shouldn’t purchase a youngster or two to teach the skills that she would never be able to pass on to a child, as no suitor would look at a woman that lead such a disgraceful lifestyle as to have a profession of her own. Not that she would ever want a husband to control her and take her work from her. That would be absurd. What man would want a wife like her? No she was never going to teach a child of her own the gifts of medicine, but maybe she and John could teach a slave child, or an orphan. She would have to discuss that with him, after they settled in for the night. It wasn’t spoken of, but as a slave it was not unheard of that he knew her. She wondered briefly as she cut some fenugreek and placed it in a basket to sort, what he would be like. She knew what he was like as a healer, and she had seen his scars and knew that some of them had to be earned in battle, so a soldier as well, he was a kind man with a strong sense of morality, she looked over at him as he cut a few more stems and placed them. His eyes drifted to hers, and he looked at her as if trying to read her mind, Molli blushed a bright crimson causing John to laugh cheerfully. “I would deny you nothing, mistress” he said smiling “though today perhaps a better use of my body is simply to bring you comfort. If that is your wish”  
~*~*~*~

One of the house slaves brought a young boy to them, he knelt in front of Molli “The illustrious Caesar, Emperor of the Great State of Rome, appointed by the gods, has issued an invitation, for the healer Molli, to attend the palace to receive her due reward for services rendered unto the household of the emperor, at sun height tomorrow.” 

“I hear and obey” Molli said ritualistically hoping that there wouldn’t be another crisis, as she didn’t want to stretch John too thin. 

“We can see to the patients we have now, and after we can take the evening to relax” John said after the boy left “if only to make sure you are ready to meet with Caesar tomorrow” he set his hands on her hips gently. “Wouldn’t do to let you get cold before such an important meeting” he spoke softly into her ear, laughing again at the rise of colour that graced her cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not forgotten this, between work, kids, chemo, new laptop, and writer's block it took far longer than it should have, and I am sorry 
> 
> that said, not entirely happy with this, and may change it before the next chapter

Molli was shown into Caesar’s side room, as opposed to the main throne room. Caesar and Mycroft were sitting together in the middle of the room, huddled over a pile of papers, a scribe at Caesar’s elbow. Molli took note of the large map table in the corner of the room farthest from her. The empress and the new princess were sitting with Anthea in a small alcove closest to the door. The food taster was staring at Molli with frank admiration, from his perch next to the table. Molli watched him concerned by the pallor of his skin and slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Noting that Caesar looked similarly disturbed, Molli frowned harder, much to the men’s amusement. 

“I believe your physician wishes you to take a break for your health, My Emperor” Mycroft stated warmly “at risk of sounding disloyal, I must agree with her assessment.”

Caesar look into Molli’s eyes and smiled at her warmly, before turning to Mycroft “as soon as I have seen to the rewards the people that saved my life, I will rest for a mark or two, but no more as the work I am doing now does not require much energy I may request that we move our council to my room that I may work from the comfort of my bed” Caesar said calmly “now my dearest healer, I will grant you a gift in the public forum for the life of my daughter, but the gift I will give you now is for my own life. I apologize that it has to be this way, for many reasons, but soon you will see why Mycroft and I have decided on these particular gifts.” The food taster hopped up from his seat and walked over to Molli trying to be solemn, but the child’s excitement was evident in the spring in his step. He handed her a small scroll, his eyes sparkling in delight at being able to do something for the woman that saved his life.   
“tonight there will be a banquet in honor of the new princess, you will be present and sit at the empress’s table, we will present you with your official gift there, now I believe that my wife and the lady Anthea, wish to assist you in preparing for the feast tonight.” 

“You would be welcome to bring anyone from your household that you wish, to attend your needs” Mycroft said, far more casually than he felt. 

“Of course” said Anthea “you would need a couple slaves to attend you this evening, I will send for yours as they assuradly know your tastes better than any we could provide?” her voice even as she reached for the girl’s arm not giving her a chance to read the scroll in her hands. As they walked arm-in-arm to the room they had shared the morning before, she dispatched a runner to summon a male and female slave from her house. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Mycroft smiled after the girls, Molli would likely not thank him for what they were planning that night, but it wouldn’t take long for her to discover that this really was the opportunity of a lifetime, for both of them. Now all he had to do was to speak to his brother, but that would have to wait until after the banquet. He had never looked forward to a state event the way he was anticipating tonight, this would be the first time he had seen John in a moons turn. He knew the man wouldn’t be treated harshly in the service to the young healer. The boy that had been dispatched to retrieve the slaves from Molli’s house was his boy, and thus would know to call John. He hoped he would be given the opportunity to speak to John, but at least he would be able to see him. Although knowing Anthea, she was probably already making plans to occupy Molli for a couple marks to give him the opportunity to spend some time with John.   
He smiled to himself again; the woman really was a wonder.

 

~*~*~*~*~  
John was worried when the boy came to the door, and spoke his message. He knew that any risk to Molli was minimal at best but he couldn’t help but be concerned about what machinations she would find herself embroiled in. “Martha” he said quietly “it looks like we are going to the palace”

“are we, dear?” the older woman asked

“yes” he replied “it appears that the Empress wishes to reward Molli” 

they collected everything they thought Molli would need for the evening and followed Mycroft's boy to the palace 

~*~*~*~*~*  
the boy led them to Mycroft's suites asking John to stay behind as he took Martha to attend to Molli

John stood still not knowing what he should do, when he felt an arm wrap around his waist, and soft lips press against his neck. “I never dreamed I would be able to do this again” Mycroft whispered into his ear his breath hot against John's skin “if you wish me to stop say the word, but I have longed to touch you again. Your mistress will be compensated for the time I spend with you”

“Is she safe here Mycroft” John asked seriously, turning in the other man's arms “I have sworn that I will keep her safe, swear to me and I will be yours until she calls”

“she is with my wife and the empress, they are as safe as I can make them” he swears, guiding John toward his chamber. 

John submits to the other man, “what can your servant do for you?” he asks coyly his hand reaching for Mycroft's sash “would you have my body, my hand, or my mouth?” John's voice lowered with lust.   
Mycroft groans as John strokes his manhood, while he speaks. Mycroft's mind takes him to fantasies that he had not allowed himself to consider mere moons ago. John takes a cushion from the bed and places it on the floor in front of the taller man, and unties Mycroft's sash, slipping his robe off of his shoulders with practiced ease. He kisses the exposed flesh reverently as he examines the naked man in front of him. He drops to his knees and takes the other man into his mouth, his tongue dancing over to hot, velvety, tender flesh before him. Mycroft throws his head back in pleasure, his hand winding into the hair of the man kneeling before him. John reaches up and braces the other man with one hand, allowing him to simply enjoy what was being offered, without fear of losing his balance. With the other hand he reaches around the man's leg and strokes the firm globe of the taller man's buttock. Pulling off gently with a sly smile he reaches for the oil that Mycroft always has next to his bed, and pours some onto his finger making sure the other man could see everything. Of course he would know what John has planned. He pulls Mycroft back to him, fitting his hard member back into his mouth, as he slides his oil drenched fingers into the other man's puckered entrance. Stroking gently as he fingers him open enough to reach the small spot that would amplify the pleasure he was giving the other man. 

 

Mycroft lost himself to the wet heat surrounding himself, as his pleasure broke over him like a wave. He stifled his cry, by biting his lip   
John stood and lowered Mycroft gently onto the bed behind them. Mycroft reached out and pulled his friend and lover into his arms. Stripping off the other man's clothes to touch as much skin as possible he stroked every inch of flesh bared to him, his fingers traced hard muscle. He reached down to the hardness between the other man's legs. Stroking the firm flesh the way he remembered the other man liked. His eyes closing in pleasure from his own release and the sensual enjoyment of touching the body of a man he cares for. His fingers stroked lightly, almost teasing as he reacquainted himself with the body he so treasured. His strokes took on more force and more speed as John gasped in pleasure, holding the other man close to him as his hand worked over his firm flesh, he claimed John's lips just as his orgasm crashed over him. 

“we need sleep, then to bathe before the banquet tonight. My wife knows my habits enough to entertain your lady, until it is time to be ready” Mycroft whispered into John's ears.


	9. Chapter 9

Molli sat between the empress and Anthea watching everything in a slight daze, the banquet was far more formal than anything she had ever experienced before. She was still confused by some of the wording on the scroll she had been given this afternoon, but she hadn't had an opportunity to ask Anthea about any of it. Her eyes were drawn around the brightly lit room nervous about being on display in front of the entire nobility, all present to celebrate the birth of the new princess. Her eyes stopped on a slight man, with dark hair and eyes, that looked to be close to her age. He held himself with a cautious diffidence that was at odds with the sharp, and calculating look in his dark eyes. “who is he?” she asked Anthea, quietly trying to hide her interest, she felt her eyes drawn to the man inexplicably.

“his name is James” Anthea answered “he is the record keeper for the senate.”

Molli nodded her head cautiously, not sure if she wanted him to see her interest or not. He looked harmless, and that fascinated her, but there was something about him that she couldn't quite place. 

Caesar spoke of her. He told the story of how she had saved the child of his beloved Centurion, one of his most loyal and how he had repaid his loyalty by gifting him slaves to save the life of his son. When he had heard that she could save a child from the wasting disease, he was impressed. Not knowing that he would call upon her services to save the life of his beloved wife, and the daughter she bore him. Rushing to the palace in the dark of night to save the life of the empress. Therefore it was his honor to reward her, for the lives that she had entreated the gods to spare. 

Molli stood and walked forward just as the empress told her to do. As a woman she wasn't expected to supplicate herself in front of Caesar, as it could never be assumed that she was even close to an equal to a man, let alone the Emperor of all of Rome. She was, however required to bow her head and not look at anyone as Caesar spoke of her and what her reward would be for her services “it has been spoken that an unwed maid is unfit to do the work of the gods. In order to provide the stability you require, I have spent many hours with my advisers trying to find the best match for you. As your father has gone to be with the gods, I stand in his place” there was a collective gasp in the room, she had to force herself not to look up at Caesar, he had just declared her a member of his house, protected as a daughter “I bind your hand to 'Sherlock brother to our friend, and noble man in his own house'” Caesar read from a scroll in front of him, her face burned at hearing her fate, though now some of the wording of the earlier scrolls made sense now. She had some protection if the union was unsuccessful, but she was still being forced to marry a man she had never met. She heard an outraged cry, as someone sitting at Caesar's table slammed something down and stormed loudly from the room. She guessed that it was either her intended, no happier than she, at being forced to marry a virtual stranger, or it was someone that had desired to be so rewarded the gift of her hand. She laughed silently, why would anyone wish to be tied to a woman that behaved in such a manner as she did. Of course this Sherlock would be horrified to be wed to her. 

~~~~ 

Mycroft sat through the display watching the girl. To all outward appearances she behaved perfectly, but he could see the way she tensed and how she reacted to every word spoken about the union. She obviously wished she could storm out in a similar fashion to her betrothed. As soon as she was permitted to sit, while Caesar introduced his daughter to the court, as a girl she would be introduced on her second day, a boy wouldn't be shown until he was 4 moons old, and deemed likely to survive. Girls were simply tools to be used to secure alliances, boys would inherit. Hence anyone in power had to be careful about introducing a boy to political rivals, but they had to show all potential allies a daughter to petition for. It was a strange music the courts of the world danced to, but dance they did. 

As soon as Caesar was finished speaking he excused himself to seek out his brother, he would need to handle this carefully, but his brother needs to see that this union is beneficial to him, not just to the family. He needed to really see that Mycroft was looking out for him, and his best interests, and that this unassuming girl was the best match that anyone could have found for him. She knew how to behave as a woman should, but was just as willing to throw that aside for her own passions. That this union would give Sherlock back his lover, was only a minor part of the equation, though likely the one that would make Sherlock agree. 

~~~~~

“Brother” he said quietly watching the fuming man pace angrily through his guest room. 

“You call me brother, yet sell me as a slave, to a woman!” Sherlock snarled “what did he offer you? What power do you gain from this? You are already his closest adviser, you don't need the bonds of being called family. Especially in some farce. What, pray tell, is the game you play” 

“Brother” Mycroft responded coolly “for a man that prides himself on observation, you have allowed your distaste of conventions to blind you to the reality of the situation you find yourself in” 

“what situation is that, brother” Sherlock snapped back, much like a caged animal trying to threaten his captors. 

“did you not listen to what was said and how. You are now family to Caesar himself. Think about what that means for you, and did you not hear the name and title of your bride?”

“Oh what does she matter, she is just a woman. What good could possibly come from being sold to her for saving the princess, who, may I add, I had never heard about until today. Mycroft” Sherlock said, something dawning on him “what really happened “this isn't about the empress, is it? Then why brother would you send me to this woman” 

“Think, Sherlock” Mycroft said, exasperation getting the better of him “what household would I decide you could be happy in? what kind of woman would you imagine I would choose to be your bride? Why would I allow, let alone ask Caesar to bind our family to **this** girl” Mycroft stated far more evenly than he felt possible at the moment. 

Sherlock's eyes darkened suspiciously “who is she, and what aren't you telling me, Mycroft?” he asked warningly. 

Mycroft just smiled at him “you will see, brother mine after the wedding” he said “but” he added, "you will marry the girl, and do your duty to; our family, the gods, and the empire first". 

“I never wanted a wife, to simper after my every word, and demand my attention, when there are puzzles to be solved. One to ask me inane questions like 'should I place this vase here, or there'” Sherlock imitated a simper at that.   
Mycroft ignored the mental image of Molli simpering. he didn't want to risk laughing in his brother's face at the notion of the girl that had ordered Caesar's most trusted guards around as if they were her servants, and had used the empress as a birthing assistant so none would know that the child born was not of her body, the woman that scolded Caesar himself like an errant child. “I will not have some woman, getting in the way of discovery” Sherlock continued ignoring his brother's carefully hidden thoughts each word trying to form a new image in Mycroft's head that he carefully locked away, he would retell this story to Anthea, verbatim. Yes, that would amuse her, and give him the opportunity to laugh at the images drawn up in his head.   
“so what if she can ease the birth of a child, any woman could do that!” he spat “why does that mean that she is allowed to get in my way? You have children that are likely to reach adulthood. So why saddle me with a woman to try to appease, before i am allowed to carry on my work?” Mycroft was becoming rather amused at his brother's ravings, rather than the normal exasperation. That fact caused Sherlock to stop and consider that his brother had information he was withholding. Sherlock knew that there was no way his brother would change his mind, when he saw the look in his eyes that reminded him of his childhood, when Mycroft would catch him doing something he thought clever but the older boy knew to be a childish ploy. He would just have to figure a way to deal with this farce, he wouldn't even need to speak with the woman if he made her, with child quickly, and it wasn't as if he would be forbidden anything. He would just need to establish the order of the household as soon as they were wed. which from the speech Caesar had issued was to be very soon. He needed to think of what he would tell her, and what he would, graciously allow her, in order to keep her out of his way. Of course he would allow her to continue as a midwife. perhaps that would keep her busy, or at least out of his hair long enough to get real work done, she may even have access to herbs that could prove useful. Best not get his hopes up too high, he thought, she likely wasn't useful for much. 

~~~~~

Molli stood in the room that Anthea had set aside for her use and stared at the wall. She was to be wed to a noble, the brother of Caesar's trusted adviser. She had even been adopted into Caesar's household, though that likely wouldn't mean much as long as her husband ruled her. She had protections, if he abandoned her or if he died. She looked over the scrolls again, the marriage contract that Caesar had signed as her father, allowed her to divorce and find a love match, if her husband failed to give her a child within the first two years. She would also keep everything she had now and all of Caesar's gifts to her, as well as any payments from her own work, if her husband set her aside. She knew the herbs to take to prevent conception, and to end a pregnancy before anyone but she, would even know it had begun. She hated thinking of the latter, but if the man that was to be her husband was unbearable, she would do it. Of course, if he was cruel to her, or tried to keep her from her work, there were other herbs that would assist with that. She shuddered at the thought of what she may be forced to do. As a healer it went against everything she believed. She would pray the gods' forgiveness for even thinking of what she would do. Perhaps he was like most of the nobility, interested only in his own amusement. If so, she would buy slave girls and perhaps boys, that were beautiful enough to hold his interest. She would only need to see him when they lay together. As long as she could leave him to his own interests, she would be fine. If he was an easily controlled simpleton, she could even become with child with John. They looked enough of a kind that anyone would only think a child took after their mother. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for what awaited her, in only a few days time. She would come out ahead of this, she hoped.


	10. Chapter 10

The day of the wedding dawned unremarkable. She hadn't been home so she had to send John to tend to her patients. She received regular reports, and everyone knew why she wasn't at home. Apparently the marriage of a daughter of Caesar even if it was one adopted by Caesar, was a big deal to everyone. Molli stood by the window staring out into the courtyard, where the festivities would take place, after the ceremony. As the slave girls oiled her body in perfumes and creams, they cooed over her speaking about something, Molli wasn't paying attention.

In a mark she would belong to a man, she had never met. She would have to find ways to hold onto any freedom she wished to maintain.

She nodded blankly as the girls dressed her.  
she noticed vaguely that the fabric was beautiful.   
Likely it was a well crafted garment.  
Not that she was aware of what was happening, her eyes having never left the wall.   
The girls adorned her hair.   
They turned her body this way and that.   
They added color to her face.  
Through it all Molli stood.  
She simply endured.  
At one point the added jewels to her arms and hands, and gilded sandals to her feet.  
Then it was time to go.  
She let them guide her passively.  
her mind far away.  
She wondered briefly if this was how John had felt, being led toward a fate you can't control.   
Was this any better than slavery?   
She would become her husband's property.   
She closed her eyes, and allowed the girls to guide her. 

 

~~~~   
he paced frantically through to the room, ignoring everything in his way; furniture, slaves, guards, even his brother, nothing mattered. It was all inconvenient proof that he had been sold to a woman, by his brother and Caesar, for what reason, he couldn't explain. Apparently they wanted him to settle down and become a good little citizen, marry for the good of the empire, and produce children to further his brother's political scheming. 

He hated being caught in the middle of his brother's plans, he had no intention of settling down, and he wasn't a cruel enough man to kill a woman that he was bound to. He stalked the room trying to find a way out of this. What was he supposed to do, was he to care for her, while she lived a life of ease, was she to take care of him while he attended to the tedium of court, and the nobility, that he was now marrying into. He hated not knowing, but right now he had no idea what even the next day would bring. Today would be the ceremony, then a celebration, then he would be alone with a woman he had never met, and he would be expected to lay with her, at least that part he knew what to do, he had taken lovers enough to understand how bodies react and the motivation for some crimes.

Should he lay out his plan for their union tonight, or tomorrow? Did he even know what his plan was? Should he start by asking, explaining, or demanding? She was bound to hate him soon, and he would find her tedious, but they were to be bound together, before evening. Apparently Mycronft was taking no chances with this, he refused to allow sherlock the opportunity to change his mind, thus the timing of the ceremony? 

He briefly considered his bride, no one would tell him anything about her, even though it was apparent that Anthea knew her well enough to answer the questions asked. All Mycroft would tell him was that she was “pretty enough, for a woman” and that he would “understand why he had decided upon this union, soon enough” of course he wasn't allowed to speak with her, or even see her before they were wed, everyone assumed he would run out on the union. perhaps he would at that, he could always go to Egypt, as the woman that worked with Gregory was from. He thought briefly of the shrew of a woman that she was, she was convinced that he would murder his bride before the week was out. More likely she will murder me in that time, he thought. He was under no illusions, he was not an easy person to live with. Perhaps, he thought, that would be the key. He could set her up in a house that she could live in and work out of. As soon as she was with child he would buy her slaves, he would find a wet nurse, so the child would be cared for, and she would never need think of either of them, unless she wished to. Of course he would have to attend functions with her, and provide her children enough to live to adulthood, and provide for her care and the care of any children she were to bare, and if he were truly lucky, she would find a suitable slave and he would not be required to touch her after the first time.

He had apparently stopped long enough lost in thought that the slaves had managed to dress him for the ceremony. He waved them off as he made his way down the halls, he knew where he was going and he didn't want to be followed by idiots. He stepped into line with the other men dressed exactly like him, he almost allowed himself to think about what would happen if demons did find and curse them, could it really be any worse than it already was?

~*~*~*~*

everyone agreed the ceremony was beautiful, the bride and groom spoke their vows perfectly, even if they seemed to lack inflection. The priests blessed the union. They exchanged their signate rings, Molli had been given a new set , befitting a daughter of Caesar. The doves were released, and flew off into the sky together. Everything was perfect. When she lifted the veil he saw her for the first time, she was pleasant enough to look at, no great beauty but, not what he was afraid he would see from a woman that was unwed at their ages. She seemed to find him pleasing enough, which he found strangely relieving. 

The celebration was also perfect, the guests offered prayers, and blessings. There was food, wine, dancing and entertainment for all. It was a holiday for all but the most essential workers. Sherlock spent the entire celebration trying to figure out why he was relieved that she was pleased with him, why did it matter to him what she thought? It wasn't as if he planned on really living with her. He studied her briefly out of the corner of his eye while someone spoke a toast. He felt her smack his leg with her fork, and noticed that the toast was complete, he lifted his glass an drank on command. How had she noticed that he wasn't paying attention to the words? He had never seen her even look at him. 

They left the festivities for the evening and retired to the rooms set aside for them, the celebration would continue for a week, without stop, as was proper. She pinched his hip “smile to the crowd” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her own smile never faltering. He regarded her briefly, her hands were far stronger than he expected, they were also not as soft as he expected them to be. She smiled and waved to the assembly, the smile reached her eyes, but didn't light them. He was perplexed by the woman at his side, she was a puzzle, a mystery. Perhaps this would give him a few days of entertainment while he tried to puzzle her out. 

He closed the door to their suite of rooms. No sooner had the door clicked than she turned to him, the little mouse had turned into a lioness.

“I have sworn my hand to you, but I will not turn my life to you. Are we clear” she hissed at him “I have dedicated my entire life to my craft. I am a healer, and I will remain a healer until the day that my hand can no longer lift a knife, and my eyes can no longer see the herbs I mix. You will not change that.” she had drawn herself up to full height, even though she barely reached his chin, in that moment she was a giantess among women. “I will offer you this one warning, if you try to force my, I know the effects of herbs you have never heard of, and can use them to simulate any illness you can imagine, and I will not hesitate to use them to assure that I keep my own life” .

As she spoke the pieces of a puzzle he had been trying to figure out for weeks settled into place “Herbs that simulate illness!” he exclaimed excitedly “of course, why didn't I think of that. Quickly,” he turned to her “which herbs would cause blood to run from the eyes, and ears, as with the bleeding fever” 

“what?” she looked at him skeptically, he stalked across his room and grabbed his notes waving them at her. 

“which herbs” he asked again as she grabbed his hand to still it and read over the papers in his hands. “you can read?” he said surprised 

“Penny royal and Savian oils. are the most likely to cause this combination” she replied, 

“those don't typically cause that” he snapped at her

“not alone, no, but in combination they can, and this says the victim was with child, those are the herbs most often used to poison the child. It is easy for them to be administered incorrectly and kill the mother” she replied calmly handing him back the notes. “if I had seen the body I could find out exactly what was used, but .. “ she let the sentence trail off. 

“would she have sought those oils out herself?” he asked her 

“not likely, and less likely the combination would be given. Either one could easily kill a woman on their own, and the combination was almost guaranteed to. Someone wanted her dead, though if she had survived the child wouldn't have, so that could be a factor” 

they stopped and looked at each other appraisingly, a leopard and a lioness meeting for the first time, both circling each other to determine if the other was; friend, foe, or food.

**Author's Note:**

> mater- an honorific form of mother  
> pater-an honorific form of father  
> Morta- cutter of life’s thread, Roman equivalent to the Greek Moirai, Atropos  
> Curia- building the Roman Senate met in  
> Elysium/ Isle of the Blessed- Greek form of Heaven, imported into Roman pantheon


End file.
